


Lip Rings and Lip Gloss

by Methoxyethane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crossdressing, Crossdressing Keith, Eventual Sex, Fluff, Gender Issues, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Makeup, drag queen Lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-11-27 08:50:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20945630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Methoxyethane/pseuds/Methoxyethane
Summary: Keith is young, out of school and ready to explore himself and his gender. He meets Lance, an unlikely friend with unlikely experience in matters of gender play, and together they’ll learn about themselves and each other while maybe falling in love.





	1. Chapter 1

The makeup aisle loomed in front of him, wide and brightly colored like the wings of an insect trying to ward off fools with the bright red and yellow warning of imminent poison. He tried his best not to be intimidated, but… it was entire  _ wall _ , and he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. Keith toyed unconsciously with his lip stud, still unused to having the new piercing in his mouth as his eyes flickered over the vast array of concealers, of which he had no idea was the correct one. What was the difference between a powder and a liquid? Was he supposed to use both at once? That sounded like it would be way too stiff and uncomfortable on his face, especially if he wanted to wear it to cover up these acne scars...

Maybe this was too much. The only reason he’d gotten away with the eyeliner in high school was because he was apparently emo, or scene or punk or goth or something, and apparently as long as you had an eyebrow ring and wore black pants every day a bit of eyeliner went unnoticed. But this was different. This was definitely taking it too far, right? He’d go from being niche to just being a dude wearing makeup.

His eye caught one of the small mirrors set up next to the eyeshadow displays, where his gaze zeroed right in on the bright red swell of a new pimple on his chin. That… was fine, though, right? He was a guy. He shouldn’t care that much about what his skin looked like in the first place. 

_ Shouldn’t _ , anyway.

But… the thing was, it was June. It was late June and Keith had graduated high school two weeks ago and if there was ever a time to start buying makeup, ever a time to experiment with and change who he was, this was it. No school, no seeing the same kids every day, the only people to judge him were whoever he met at work when it’d be ridiculous to try and wear makeup he’d just sweat off anyway and whatever social situations Keith himself chose to engage in. He could do whatever he wanted. He could buy concealer to cover up this old acne, top it off with eyeliner and go flirt with guys down at the Cherry Pit.

He could even wear a skirt there, if he wanted.

Keith felt his heart speed up, nervous just by the idea. Okay, that might be taking it a bit far, yet. It’s not like he was trans or anything, he just… Wanted to feel attractive. Anyone could understand that, right? So to that end, a little makeup was totally fine.

But that decision didn’t give him any kind of clue what makeup was the right one to buy. Did he have a warm skin tone or a cool one? Was he even supposed to be matching his skin, or going lighter, or what here? If he wanted eyeshadow, did him being Asian change how he was supposed to apply it? There weren’t enough Asian girls in his school for him to have ever noticed how they did their makeup. It looked like they weren’t wearing any, but at least Sharon Wong had definitely been a makeup kind of girl, had she just applied it so well that Keith had never noticed it? Would he have noticed if he weren’t gay?

Okay, he was just psyching himself out at this point. He stepped forward decisively, grabbing a random compact that looked about his skin tone and reading the packaging for any kind of clue on its instruction. It didn’t, but the only way to learn was to try, right?

“That’s too dark for you,” a voice said over Keith’s shoulder, startling him into nearly dropping the plastic disc of mystery as he whipped around to see who had spoken to him.

It was indeed a guy’s voice, although it was high enough that under the circumstances Keith hadn’t been a hundred percent certain it wasn’t a woman. But indeed it was not, instead a tall and objectively handsome boy around his age who was reaching towards the shelf in front of them to pluck a green-tinted stick out of the racks. “If you’re just trying to cover that zit you only need some blemish corrector,” he handed the tube to Keith without looking at him. “But if you’re trying to go all out you can probably get away with just a matte concealer, since most of your skin is actually pretty nice.” Grabbing another jar to immediately hand off, the boy finally turned to look at Keith. And then gesture rudely to the general area of his acne scars to point out, “You know, besides that area,” like Keith didn’t already know about it and needed to be informed.

But still, he’d been more help than Keith had had so far, and he had no choice but to say, “Uh... Thanks.” He looked at the two tubes in his hand, and a little helplessly, offered, “I’m trying to go for the, uh… natural look.”

“Yeah, I’d figured,” the boy grinned, and Keith couldn’t help but notice that not only did he have a six-pack of beer slung over his shoulder, he also looked exactly like every douchebag in the entirety of Keith’s high school, with the possible exception of his being less white than the average fuckboi. Well that’s not what Keith had expected at all. Well, Keith knew better than anyone how useless it was to try and judge a book by its cover, right? “There are about ten thousand tutorials online if you want help contouring, but I figure you at least need to start with the right damned colors, eh?”

“Yeah,  _ too many _ videos,” Keith shuddered at the horror that was navigating YouTube. “If I couldn’t even find one to teach me to put on eyeliner I doubt ten thousand white girls are gonna help me… highlight my cheekbones, or whatever.”

The boy laughed, loud and cheerful. “Yeah, no kidding. I’d offer to tell you what videos I use but then you’d just end up looking like John Leguizamo in Wong Foo.” He made a flipy gesture with his hand over his shoulder as if he were tossing imaginary hair cockily. “Not that I need to wear any makeup in my day life, what with my skin being  _ magnificently flawless _ and all.”

Against his own will Keith met the strange boy’s laugh, not even noticing that he’d somehow relaxed entirely out of his earlier tension. 

“Here,” the guy made a gimme sort of gesture with one hand. “My phones dead, give me yours.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, a little shake of his head to indicate ‘Why the fuck would I do that?’

Handsome just rolled his eyes and made the gesture again, “So I can text myself from your number, dude,” His grin turned unnecessarily flirtatious, and he waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll hook you up with the know-how you need, make you so fine all the heads will be turning when you walk down the street hoping to get a second glance.”

Keith smothered a laugh into a snort, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. “Sure.” Whoever this guy was he was charming as hell, and whether he was trying to big-sister Keith or get into his pants it ought to be worth entertaining him for a while. 

The guy putzed with Keith’s phone for a moment, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth like a distracted cat. When he flipped the phone back into Keith’s hands he was grinning again, using his one free hand to a finger gun at Keith as he started walking backwards, beer slung jauntily over his shoulder. “I would love to stay and help you pick out the right lip gloss but I’m afraid I have people waiting for me.”

“Who even said I needed to buy lip gloss?”

The boy’s grin didn’t waver. “The natural look, right?” He winked, and Keith pretended he wasn’t watching out of the corner of his eye as he sauntered to the cash register and casually bought beer like he wasn’t almost a hundred percent certainly the same eighteen years old Keith himself was.

When Keith looked at his phone, the words the guy had texted himself were ‘Soft Punk Kitten,’ which Keith was going to give him the benefit of the doubt to assume that’s not what he intended to file Keith’s contact number under in lieu of his name.

Just in case, Keith went ahead and texted ‘Keith’ to the new contact, which was already labeled under the name, ‘~Lance ;)’

Oh yeah. This was not going to prove to be one of Keith’s better ideas. But on the other hand, he did feel a lot more confident buying the stupid concealer after that.

(He did also end up buying three shades of lip gloss, but to be fair he bought a lot of things all at once. Didn’t exactly wanna make multiple trips to the drug store buying makeup, after all.)

\--

The thing was this: Keith was, ultimately, pretty comfortable with who he was. He had no dysphoria whatsoever - in fact, almost the opposite was the issue. Keith liked his body, was proud of it. And the part of him that genuinely didn’t care about people’s opinion of him was as a result at war with that other half that, well… wasn’t narcissistic as much as just… wanted to feel pretty?

That was the other thing. Maybe it had to do with him being gay, or maybe it maybe it was some sort of psychological leftover from his first boyfriend at the age of fourteen crooning the word into his ear, but Keith wanted to be  _ pretty _ . Handsome was well and okay, sexy was fine, cute was a compliment he appreciated, but what he really wanted was, for some reason, to feel  _ pretty _ . 

It didn’t have to be all the time, and it wasn’t the most driving desire in his life. But he wanted to have beautiful hair and beautiful skin and perfect makeup and high heels that made his calves look fantastic and he wanted boys to call him beautiful in breathless sighs like he was some kind of divine creature. Which was, you know, a common enough desire among the average… girl and woman. Which he was not.

He wasn’t trans and while he didn’t particularly mind the idea of being accidentally called ‘she’ once in a while he was pretty sure that wasn’t the same as actually being genderqueer. As a result he couldn’t help but be a bit confused by his own situation. 

He had been confused for a while now, and up until this point, he had had no one to turn to with his questions. But now, he had a number in his phone, and it belonged to someone who knew that Keith wanted to be pretty and hadn’t judged him, had actively offered to help. All he had to do was reach out and hit “dial.”

Keith hesitated. For about a week and a half, he hesitated. Then he actually found himself putting on the makeup he had gone through so much trouble to buy, and that’s where things had gone downhill.

It looked… wrong. Matted and cakey, and he could still see the bumps of red pimples poking up through the concealer. Thoroughly displeased by the results of his experiment and too stubborn to be discouraged, Keith finally gathered up the courage to call Lance.

Keith felt his breath hitch with nervousness, telling himself the worst thing that could happen was Lance hung up on him. Okay, the worst that could happen was he made fun of Keith, but he was all the way on the other end of a phone so what could he do from there besides laugh derisively and maybe hurt Keith’s feelings a little? Nothing was what. And he hadn’t laughed yet, so now would be a weird time to start.

It only took a couple of rings for the other boy to pick up. He answered with a cheerful “Yoho! It’s Keith, right?”

Keith felt the breath he’d been holding in sigh out in relief, oddly no longer nervous just for hearing the boy’s voice. “Y-yeah, it’s Keith. Hi, um. Lance.”

There was a smile in Lance’s voice. “I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you, but I’m glad you called. What’s up, little goth? Need my fabulous expertise in skincare?”

Lance’s casual demeanor was enough to relax Keith into being honest with him. “Yeah, I guess so? I tried putting on the makeup you recommended but I can still see the acne.”

“Well of course you can, they’re your zits. Your eyes are gonna zero right in on the flaws without seeing the full picture.”

Keith frowned, once again examining himself in the mirror. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s just because I did this wrong.”

Lance laughed, and Keith’s soft gay heart decided it was a really handsome laugh. “Fine, fine, text me a picture. Lemme see what you’ve got.”

“I uh…” Keith squinted at his smartphone. “I don’t actually know how to do that without hanging up on you, so give me a second.”

Lance laughed again. “You don’t have to hang up, just minimize the phone like you would any other app and you can do whatever you need to.”

Shit, this meant Keith had to take a selfie of himself. And send it to a hot guy. For the sake of having that hot guy criticize his face. Was this a really bad idea?? 

Nevertheless, Keith struggled through a few pictures of himself, sending Lance the one he felt made him look the least disgusting. There were bags under his eyes and you could still see the acne under his matted concealer so it wasn’t the ideal photo, but at least his hair looked okay in this one.

“Ooh, now I have a picture of you~!” Lance sang, making Keith instantly regret sending him that selfie. “Shit boy, you’re even cuter than I remembered. I almost thought I made you up.”

Feeling the blush burning at his ears, Keith rolled his eyes even though Lance couldn’t see it through the phone, just because he didn’t know what else to do with himself at the compliment. “That’s not -! Shut up, you loser fuckboy.”

Lance’s chuckle was smooth, and made Keith’s face heat up even further. “Cuuuute,” he said, almost to himself. “Anyway, I see the problem. You forgot to use the corrector stick I gave you and then used too much concealer trying to make up for it. The reason the stick is green is because it cancels out the red of the pimple, but the concealer is a shade too close to to properly cover it up by itself.”

Oh, that made sense. Keith dug around in the plastic bag his makeup had never left since purchase, finding the odd green stick he’d apparently forgotten he’d bought. Washed the concealer off of one of his bigger zits, then drew on it with the green tube, once again adding the concealer on top of it. It still looked a little bit weird, and you could definitely still see the bump, but…

“That actually is better. Thanks, Lance.”

“No problem,” Lance said jauntily. “Send me a pic?”

Keith hesitated. “Maybe some other time. I don’t feel very… sexy right now.”

Lance’s voice dropped a register, lowering into a purr that did things to Keith’s spine because Keith was weak and this strange dude was incredibly charming. “Baby, I can make you feel sexy whenever you want, if you give me the chance~”

Keith laughed, deeper and more honest than he could remember himself laughing in a long time. “I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”

“As long as I’m on your mind, sweet thing.”

Keith had had guys hit on him before, but never… never flirting the way Lance was right now. Never with such persistent charm like this, never in a way that actually made his heart flutter like a schoolgirl. This guy was dangerous, Keith decided. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to want to stop the conversation, even a little bit.

“You have to tell me though,” Keith found himself asking. “How do you know so much about this stuff? You don’t really seem like the type to have encyclopedic knowledge of makeup, no matter how nice your skin is.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Lance laughed. “I actually spent most of this year like. SUPER into drag.” 

“Drag?” Keith said in surprise. “Like, drag queen drag?”

“What other kinds are there?” Lance said easily. “Me and the friends I was hanging out with at the time fell in love with that show RuPaul’s Drag Race, and since I happen to be something of a beauty in the face,” - Keith snorted - “The girls wanted to try dressing me up. And we all had so much fun doing it, I got like… FULL into it for a while. Bought wigs, learned how to do the makeup and the contouring and shit, the dancing and lip syncing… It was… intense.”

Keith blinked, jaw hanging open. “I cannot even imagine. What did - did you look good?”

Lance sounded affronted. “Of course I looked good! I’m amazing at everything I do, I looked like a total Queen, I’ll have you know! The slaying! The absolute slayage I laid upon this world!”

A few seconds of mumbling later, and Lance had texted him a photo. When Keith opened it up it was exactly what he did and didn’t expect - Lance was in a blue wig that looked like it was made out three people’s worth of hair, face all dolled up in the most extreme examples of makeup magic he had ever seen and posing for the camera. 

“Good lord,” Keith said into the phone, not even on purpose. “You’re absolutely fabulous.”

“Why thank you, I appreciate that!” Lance answered cheerfully. “In the end the person whose house we hung out at had a falling out with their parents and we didn’t have anywhere to watch it anymore, and then someone broke up with their girlfriend and I didn’t wanna pick sides, and I dunno we all just sort of fell out of hanging out and it wasn’t as much fun by myself, so. I haven’t dressed up in a while.”

“If you had so much fun, you should do it again.” Keith said honestly. 

“I just said it wasn’t as much fun alone,” Lance laughed. “Unless you’re offering to hang out and get all dragged out with me?”

“I,” Too much too soon. “I have to go,” Keith said quickly.

Lance laughed. “Not a problem at all, kitten. Call me sometime. I wanna hear from you again.”

Keith was startling to think he might want that, too.

Dangerous.

—

But as it was, Keith had been confused and nervous for a long time, and one phone call wasn’t enough to wipe out a lifetime of ingrained gender roles telling him he was weird. He didn’t put on the makeup again, telling himself it was because he had nowhere to go and therefore no excuse to wear any. 

And he didn’t call Lance again. Keith never thought of any reason to do so. But it didn’t matter because in the end, Lance was the one to text him.

He sent him a video. It was a makeup tutorial, naturally enough, but one Keith could actually use instead of all the plain-looking white girls using witchcraft to turn themselves into Kim K. clones. Keith thanked him for the tip, and Lance sent a winky face back.

That was what started it. 

Lance didn’t stop texting him after that. Stupid little shit, he’d text, memes Keith barely understood and questions that had no bearing on real life like what Keith’s opinion on hummus was. Keith mainly texted back pictures of his dog Kosmo, because he didn’t know how to respond to memes and everyone always got distracted by how cute the husky was. 

And of course, they’d talked about fashion. After the tutorial Lance had sent him he’d asked if Keith had tried any makeup again, finally giving Keith a reasonable excuse to wear it again he couldn’t talk himself out of.

Following the advice he’d gotten both from Lance and online, Keith had put on the concealer and eyeshadow with nervous fingers. Even though he’d worn eyeliner before it took three tries to put it on without messing up his eye shadow, and the lipgloss was an anxious smear of pink on his lips, but… when all was said and done and he examined himself in the mirror, Keith felt good. 

‘ _ Send pix?? _ ’ Lance sent back when Keith texted him back, a half hour later. 

Keith bit his lip, feeling the blush form on his face.  _ ‘Just a sec, _ ’ Keith answered, turning the light on and posing for a couple of quick selfies he hoped wouldn’t make him look too ridiculous. 

He picked the best one, looking at it for a second before he sent it to Lance. He looked… good, he decided. He could still see all his own flaws, but if he just made himself ignore them the picture made him look… pretty.

He held his breath as he sent it off, waiting for Lance’s response.

‘ _ God damn boy, _ ’ Lance sent first, after a moment.  _ ‘You’re so fucking pretty it took my breath away. _ ’

And the compliment was enough to take  _ Keith’s _ breath away, heart pounding in his chest. Goddddd, why did he keep talking to Lance when all this flirting was going to be the death of him? Keith was so weak. So weak he absolutely couldn’t stop it.

If he knew how, Keith would flirt back. But all he could think to do was send another selfie of him sticking out his tongue at Lance, hoping the response was cheeky enough to be cute and not just stupid. Because lord, did Lance make him feel stupid. But like… stupid in a good way.

‘ _ What about this? _ ’ Keith sent to Lance on another day. With it he sent an amazon link, a black rockabilly dress with a red rose pattern he was wondering if he’d look good in. ‘ _ Too much? My shoulders would probably look silly but I like how much attention it would draw to my arms… _ ’

‘ _ No way, not silly at all. _ ’ Lance replied. ‘ _ I think it would look good on you!! Really sexy and cute _ ;)’

Keith buried his face in his pillow to smother the pathetic noise he made. Why did he do these things to himself?

_ ‘Are you gonna buy it?’ _

Keith thought for a minute.  _ ‘Not right now,’ _ he decided.  _ ‘I’d be way too embarrassed to ever wear it.’ _

_ ‘Should I buy it for you?’ _

_ ‘You had better not!’ _ Keith shot back.  _ ‘I already owe you for the help, you better not do anything creepy!!’ _

_ ‘Fine, I won’t. But only because you called me creepy.’ _

Keith sighed in relief. A little lipgloss was one thing but he’d never even come close to wearing a dress before, and he wasn’t ready to start now. Even if he WOULD look cute as hell.

They continued on like that for weeks, talking and flirting and exchanging pics like the teenagers they were, and Keith couldn’t say he didn’t love every minute of it. And then, inevitably, Lance put his foot forward.

_ ‘Anyway I’m getting rid of some stuff I don’t use anymore. U should come over and see if theres anything out of it u want.’ _

Come over. Lance had invited Keith over to his house. And as nervous as the idea made him, Keith knew he had to go or he’d regret it for pretty much ever. It had only been a few weeks of texting, but Keith had gotten more than a little attached to Lance already.

So he made plans to meet Lance in person the next day. Not that they hadn’t physically met before, when they met for the very first time of course, but that had only been for a minute and Keith hadn’t at that point expected to like… actually start to like Lance as a person. Much less go over to his house.

When the time to come over rolled around, Keith got the car keys from his mother and drove over to the address Lance had texted him. Keith didn’t have his own car yet because he didn’t need one - Krolia had a motorcycle of her own that she could take out if she ever needed to go anywhere while Keith was using the car. Keith knew how to ride the motorcycle, but generally was not allowed to. He didn’t mind. Someday he’d buy his own.

He didn’t know how long he planned on living at home with her, but moving out was too expensive at this point. It didn’t help… or didn’t hurt? That he worked in the same blacksmith shop his mother did, had been taught all his skills by her own hands. They went to work together, and it was nice having someone you know wouldn’t let you down in a carpool. Because you lived with them.

When he pulled up, Lance’s house was bigger than he expected. It also looked a little bit run down, but not in a bad way. More like in the way that spoke of a house very well-loved, one lots of people lived in and played in and relaxed in every day for years and years. Keith, who shared an apartment with someone loving but ultimately pretty distant, liked it instantly.

Lance met him at the door, wearing a tired smile and worn tee shirt that showed off the shape of his arms. He was more fit than Keith had expected from what seemed like a skinny frame. “Hey,” he said, opening the door wide for Keith. “I’m glad you came, I was just starting to worry you’d leave me all alone to deal with my mess.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, following him inside. “What kind of mess did you make?”

“Uhhh,” Lance trailed off before flashing Keith a winning smile. “Trust that I can clean it up and don’t worry about it!”

Lance led him upstairs to where his bedroom was. “Anyway, I used to share a room with my brother, but he moved out last year for college,” he explained, “So I’ve had the room to myself since then. That’s why we still have two beds.”

He opened the door to a nice sized room that indeed held two separate beds, each one pushed up against a different wall. The rest of the room was decorated only for one, with a decent sized TV propped on top of a dressed in the center of the room. 

Also, everything was covered in sparkling or gauzy clothing. A pile of shoes littered the floor, high heels in sizes and heights that frankly terrified Keith, and one bed seemed to be entirely covered in a pile of wigs and makeup.

“Oh THIS mess,” Keith said, stepping carefully into the room. “What exactly am I supposed to be helping you with now…?”

Lance swept an arm over the array. “I have too much stuff. Wanna try some on and see if you want any?”

Keith reeled back. “Isn’t this all drag stuff? Why would I want this?”

Lance shrugged. “Because… I needed an excuse to invite you over and this seemed like an opportunity to dress you up?”

Keith blinked, barking out a surprised laugh. “That’s… a more honest answer than I expected,” he said, shyly avoiding eye contact to cast his eyes around the room at all the bizarre outfit pieces Lance had scattered about. “I don’t know… I’d feel weird changing clothes on a stranger's room.”

“Then don’t,” Lance answered. “Just take a look at everything, you can see if they fit at home if it turns out yo find anything you like. Or just try it on over your pants like a little kid playing dress up!”

Keith couldn’t quite help the smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “I can at least try on the makeup, I guess.”

Lance grinned, and tugged him into the room, door clicking shut behind him.

“Here, you’re probably too nervous for silence,” Lance said, grabbing his remote and turning the TV to Hulu. “Being in a stud like me’s room all alone and all, right?” He chuckled, sounding a little nervous himself as he picked out RuPaul’s Drag Race from the queue and zipped it back to the first season to start playing. 

A flash of colors and noises came from the TV, and Keith watched as a parade of well dressed drag queens were introduced to the camera. It was two minutes in, and he was already in over his head.

“Okay,” Lance said, taking Keith’s attention back up to him and away from the overwhelming array of lights and sounds the TV was outputting. “So what kind of style are you going for, is the first thing we need to know. I’m guessing absolutely anything with sequins is out?”

Keith nodded quickly. “I… the natural look??” He said desperately. 

Lance looked at him. Sighed a little. “We’re in too deep with the clothes, aren’t we?”

Keith nodded again. 

Lance nodded back. “Alright. You know what we need to do first anyway?”

Keith did not know. Lance’s beaming smile was oddly reassuring, though. 

“Facials,” Lance declared, and the first image to come to mind was… something Keith would not admit, but let’s just say it brought a blush to his face. “You have a great face but you need to work on your skin; let’s get you cleaned up.”

Lance opened the door again to drag Keith into the bathroom, washing both their faces with warm water. “I’ve got all kinds of scrubs and lotions and oils and… frog potions that I bought in an attempt to get rid of my acne a couple years ago,” Lance started saying as he handed Keith a little white pad that soaped up under water. “I never figured out if the acne went away because of what I was doing or if I just aged out of it, so I figured I’d keep doing the routine I was doing just in case I stopped it would come back.”

Keith hummed, enjoying the tingle of the face wash before he rinsed it off his face. “I can’t even imagine you with bad skin, you look so… flawless.”

Lance, for the first time Keith had ever seen, sputtered and turned red. “FFf-f-f-flawless? Me? That’s a laugh.” He chuckled, low and hollow. “That’s nice, but I have problems of all kinds, even down to my skin.” He patted dry his face with a towel he then handed to Keith, pulling out a new tube of something-or-other. “For one thing, all the chlorine dries me out like a leaf in winter. I gotta lotion down pretty much my whole body every night, it’s so stupid.”

“Chlorine?” Keith asked, watching as Lance poured a green gel onto his fingertips and began to massage it into his skin. “You swim a lot?” That certainly explained why he was in such good shape. Not that Keith had noticed or anything.

“Oh yeah,” Lance said, a chuckle hiding in his voice. “I used to be on the swim team, but… Life got too busy, and when I fell off the main squad I decided it was probably time to quit.” His face was now covered in ridiculous green goo, and he turned to Keith with it next. “So now I just teach swimming to kids on weekends. They let me use the pool for free before and afterwords, and if you get there early enough there’s only like, one really old person you have to swim laps around, so the pool’s as good as empty.”

“That’s a good way to stay in shape,” Keith commented, trying not to flinch back as Lance’s fingers reached out to smear the cold goop all over Keith’s face. “I just help my mom at work sometimes.”

“Oh yeah?” Lance asked. “And what’s she do?”

“Farrier.”

“That’s uh, with the horse shoes right? So you work with horses a lot?” Lance’s careful fingers massaged the face cream into Keith’s skin, and once it warmed up and didn’t feel so weird anymore it was kind of… nice. 

“Not really,” Keith answered, wonderful why the stuff didn’t seem to be absorbing into his skin as much as just… resting in a goopy layer on top of it.

“Don’t touch your face,” Lance interrupted quickly, swatting Keith’s wandering fingers away from poking at his face. “Here, let’s go back to my room and wait for these to dry.”

Keith nodded, and followed Lance back into his room, door once again clicked shut behind him to seal them both in the layer of privacy the door afforded. Keith appreciated that, considering he had. Layer of green go on his face and was about to look at dresses with a boy he’d met all of once before today. 

Was this crazy? Was everything Keith was doing crazy right now? Well, if it was, at least he was pretty sure he was having fun with it. He had friends, but never ones so close he could talk about… these kind of things with. School friends like Allura and Romelle he wasn’t close enough to, and work friends like Regris and Acxa were too… just not the type who’d appreciate Keith’s proclivities. Not that they’d laugh or anything, they just… yeah. No. It’d be too weird.

Having one person in the world who accepted the weirdest most secret parts of Keith with open arms… It made Keith feel vulnerable and exposed, but in a good way. Like he wanted to open up even more, if he could just figure out how.

Lance settled on one end of what Keith presumed to be his own bed, kicking clothes off onto the floor to make room. Keith now had the choice of sitting on the other bed by himself or joining Lance on his which was an option that seemed unbearably intimate.

But on the other hand sitting on the other bed would create a distance between them, and right now Keith really wanted to get closer to the other boy… Okay. He could do this.

Keith sat down on Lance’s bed, a few feet of distance separating he and Lance’s bodies. Lance grinned, and handed him a pillow.

He tried not to be overly conscious of himself, and settled into the bed to watch the show while his face mask dried. 

“So, I don’t get it yet. How does this competition even work?”

“Well,” Lance explained, gesturing to the TV. “There are challenges involving the whole lifestyle of being a drag queen. Mostly like, fashion and style challenges and every episode has a lip synch challenge, because lip singing to songs is like, the heart of what drag artists do. But there are also comedy challenges because you have to be charming and charismatic as hell, because as you can see drag is full of big personalities.”

“Interesting,” Keith said, supposing he sort of understood the idea of it. “I guess I knew it was reality tv but I didn’t expect it to be an elimination challenge show.”

Lance laughed, “Well, the reason people get sucked into it is for the Queens. They live, they laugh, they love, but mostly, they get catty and turn into total bitches. It’s… a LOT of fun to get sucked into all that drama.”

It was Keith’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, that’s more along the lines I expected. Good to know I wasn’t all wrong.” 

They watched the show for a few more minutes in comfortable silence. “So,” Keith asked, discreetly picking at the peeling edges of his face mask. “What did you do, when you were into drag? The whole shebang, did you dress up and sing on stage, or just do it for fun with the girls?”

“We went out dressed up, but it was to watch performances of other drag queens. It takes a lot to get a show yourself, you can’t just waltz in as a high schooler and get on stage with the big girls.”

That made sense. “Did you ever want to?”

“Hell yeah,” Lance admitted, beckoning Keith over with the flicker of one hand. “And I didn’t just want to lip sync. I wanted to sing for real.”

Keith couldn’t help but be impressed. “You can sing?”

Lance nodded, and reached over to start peeling the green mask off of Keith’s face with gentle fingers. “Hell yeah I can sing. At least,  _ I _ think so, and all my friends always told me I was good at it, so.” He finished with a shrug.

The removal of the face mask felt refreshing in ways Keith wasn’t used to, leaving behind a tingly clean feeling that also made him want to touch his face. It felt like it would be smooth if he did, like… super soft.

“I might have to get some of this stuff,” he said as he watched Lance peeling off his own face mask with a small laugh.

“Yeah you do,” Lance agreed, throwing away the peeled green remains of both their masks in the wastebasket by his bed. “So, you like how it feels?”

Keith nodded quickly. “It’s good. Thanks, Lance.”

Lance had a strange, sort of embarrassed look on his face, but he was smiling through the blush. “I’m glad. You’re really cute when you smile, Keith.”

Keith hadn’t even noticed he had been. “T-thanks,” he managed, swallowing thickly. “So are you.”

If Lance had looked embarrassed before it was at least double that now. Not sure what to say, both of them birth out in awkward chuckles and avoided eye contact, staring back at the TV again to regain their mutual composure after their awkward flirtations. 

Oh god, had he really said that? Had he really finally flirted back with Lance, now of all times, when they were face to face and Keith couldn’t just hide his phone under his pillow? God he was such a freak. 

They took a while to get back into the show, but soon the first lip sync was playing and the next episode was starting up, and Keith was successfully sucked into the program.

“Okay,” Lance said. “We can just sit here and watch TV some other time, but I had you come over for a reason.” He gestured to the pile of makeup sitting on the end table next to the bed. “You want anything?”

Keith bit his lip, casting his eyes over the odd array Lance had set out. “I don’t even know what most of this is for, Lance. Are you really sure you’re ready to give this stuff away? It seems really expensive.”

“I’m not using it anymore,” Lance shrugged, but it seemed like he looked a little regretful to Keith.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t ever use it again,” Keith argued. “Why don’t you give it some more time, see if though find an excuse to dress up again. Even if it’s just with me.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Lance nodded. “Alright,” he agreed. “But if you’re not taking anything, you still have to try some of it out.”

Keith wasn’t sure if he liked how that sounded. “I don’t… know how to do that, Lance.”

The other boy just laughed, pulling Keith closer to him by the arm as he scooted towards him on the bed. “Then let me do it. I’ll show you how you look with a REAL makeup job on.”

Hesitant, Keith agreed. “Okay, I’ll trust you.”

Lance beamed at him, grabbing a jar of foundation. 

What happened next was… an experience. Keith held still as Lance carefully smeared a layer of pale foundation all over Keith’s face. His fingers and movements were all extremely gentle, and when Keith let himself relax and get used to the touch of another person’s hands on his face it felt oddly… nice. Soothing, somehow.

Lance pulled out a soft wedge applicator and switched to a different bottle of a slightly different color, beginning to apply the makeup in soft dabs around the edges of Keith’s face. Keith sat there, quietly losing himself to the relaxing feel of letting someone else touch him with gentle fingers.

It took what seemed like an unnaturally long time to finish applying the foundation, but after that Lance broke out the brushes, ones of every size and shape Keith could imagine. “What color do you want for your eyes?”

“I’unno,” Keith shrugged, valiantly not shrinking in on himself at the question. Not knowing what he looked good in yet was alright, he was still learning.

Lance hummed, and picked something out for him from a large palette of colors. “Then let’s have fun with it. I always use blue, so let’s paint you into something warm.”

Keith let his eyes flutter closed, waiting nervously for the brush to potentially poke him in the eye. When it touched his eyelid the sensation didn’t hurt at all, just the barest flutter of motion fleeting across his eyelids as Lance carefully worked the soft brush over Keith’s closed eyes.

Keith let out a shaky breath, superconscious both of his breathing and of the feeling of Lance applying the makeup to Keith’s eyes. It felt so soft, the moment so unbearably intimate, Keith could barely even breathe.

He never wanted the moment to end.

Lance carefully glued a set of heavy false lashes to his eyelids, mumbling to Keith in a gentle voice to hold still and keep his eyes closed. The glue felt tacky and unpleasant as it dried, but Lance was grabbing a pencil and drawing a slow line around the outside of Keith’s lips, and everything else but that sensation was completely distracting.

He let his eyes flutter open again, watching Lance. He was so close to Keith, their faces only inches apart as Lance carefully worked his magic, close mouth for Keith to notice how blue his eyes were. No wonder so many of the clothes strewn around the room were in that color. It must be to highlight those gorgeous eyes of his.

Lance pulled out a tube of lipstick in bright red, and Keith sucked in a breath of air. Slowly, so slowly it seemed like time itself had paused just for this moment, Lance reached out to Keith and carefully painted his lips with expert hands.

Keith didn’t breathe again until Lance pulled away, capping the tube.

“There,” Lance said, all told close to an hour after they’d started. “You look… like you’re still missing something.” He hopped off the bed, and Keith watched him pick through a selection of wigs hanging off of the branches of a hat rack. The one he picked out was long and dark, a deep chestnut brown that he brushed out with his fingers before bringing over to Keith.

“I know wigs aren’t the natural look, but I kind of went overboard and now I wanna see what happens if we just say fuck it and go all the way,” Lance explained as he approached Keith, carefully setting the wig in his head and adjusting it for a few seconds. 

“Okaaaayyy,” Keith said nervously, wondering what exactly overboard could mean to a drag queen.

He didn’t have to wonder long. Soon Lance was standing him up and showing him towards the vanity mirror on top of Lance’s dresser in one corner of the room, presenting Keith to his reflection with a flourish and the words, “Ta-dah!”

The lipstick was bright red and the eye makeup was expertly done, and when all was said and done Keith could only think that he looked like a girl version of himself. The wig was long and flowed with the movements of his head, but it added to the Same effect the long eyelashes and over-bright lip color did - made him look even more like a girl.

He couldn’t deny it was beautiful, though. He stared at himself, made faces at his reflection, turned to look at every single angle of the bizarre Not-Keith in front of him. It was absolutely fascinating to look at, but… 

“Do you feel pretty?” Lance asked, watching Keith watch himself.

“I do, but…” Keith hesitated. “I don’t really feel like myself.” He took off the wig, and mussed his hair up back to the way he liked it.

He blinked at his reflection again, seeing the instant difference that made. Smiled a little. That was much better. “I do kind of like the lipstick,” he decided out loud. 

Lance smiled back at him. “Oh good, I was afraid I’d gone too far over the ‘natural’ line and you wouldn't approve.”

Keith turned around to look at Lance, flashing him a genuine smile. “You did, but I’m glad you went to all the trouble. I’d never have been happy with myself if I didn’t see the extreme, and know exactly where in the middle I’d like to fall, you know?”

Lance nodded. “Well, I’m glad you let me try, too. Otherwise I’d probably never have gotten to see the full limits of how stunning you can get.”

Keith laughed, shyly tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “I’ll just have to wash it all off before I go home anyway.” He gestured down to his Metallica Tee Shirt and ripped jeans. “I don’t really have the outfit to justify this much fabulousness.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed with a sly grin. “But wasn’t it fun trying in the meantime?”

Keith nodded. 

It was the most fun he’d had in ages.

—


	2. Chapter 2

Keith didn’t usually get phone calls from much of anyone, which is why when his ringtone interrupted the music he was blasting in his uncle’s forge, he hesitated to answer it at all. 

He had kind of been in the groove before, working on the grinder to profile his knife and totally getting into the zone on it. The ringing was enough to throw him off track though, and with a sigh Keith shut off the grinder and set down his knife, wandering over to the shelf where Keith had his phone plugged into the speaker.

The phone had already stopped ringing and switched back to the blare of heavy metal by the time Keith got to it. But under missed calls was Lance’s name, and so Keith paused his music and hoped he hadn’t missed the other boy, hitting the call back button with a nervous bite to his lip. 

“Keith, you’re there! I thought I’d missed you!” Lance’s cheerful voice answered, and the sound of it brought a small smile to Keith’s lips. 

“Sorry, I’m down in my uncle’s forge so it took a minute to hear you calling.” 

“Forge?” Lance asked curiously. “What are you doing in a forge?”

Keith hummed, wandering outside the forge to get some better sound quality. “My uncle Kolivan owns it, so I can come down here for practice whenever I want. I was just making a knife.”

“Making a knife? In a forge? Like, a blacksmith forge?”

Keith nodded, “Yeah,” even though Lance couldn’t see him do it. “I said that, didn’t I? I’m an apprentice blacksmith. That’s why I’m not going to school next fall, I’ve got a trade lined up instead.”

“Hooooly shiiiittt,” he could hear the wonder in Lance’s voice, his tone genuinely impressed. “And you’re making a knife? Like, tell me about that, are you making it from scratch?”

God Lance sounded completely interested, why was he so interested? He shouldn’t care about this, it was only Keith’s job. Tell him about it, he says. What was there top even tell? “Yeah, I uh. I heated up some 1080 steel and hammered it into shape already, so now I’m on the grinder turning it into something… knife-shaped.”

“That’s so cool!” Lance practically shouted. “God that explains your arms, you look like a man who knows his way around a hammer.”

At least the flirting was back to familiar territory, and it made Keith chuckle into the phone. “That I certainly do, Lance.”

“Oooh, say my name like that again, you’re making my heart flutter.”

Keith laughed again, louder this time. “Lance,” he said again, this time admonishing him instead of flirting back. 

“No but I’m serious, your job is so cool,” Lance said, doubling back on himself. “Can I see what you made sometime? Can I watch you make something?”

“Um, I’m not sure Kolivan would approve of gawkers standing around the shop for no reason, so you probably can’t stick around and watch me make anything, but I’m sure it’d be okay to show you around the forge sometime.” Honestly he’d be too self conscious to let Lance watch him, and he’d probably end up dropping hot iron on the other boy’s foot while trying to impress him. Keith wasn’t ready for something like that.

“Really, I can come look some time? Oh my god that’s so cool! You HAVE to show me everything you’ve made,” Lance said excitedly. 

“Sure Lance,” Keith smiled, hand going to rub the back of his neck where it was warm. “But it’s mostly just failed horseshoes and… less-failed knives.” Keith had a talent for knives.

“So cool,” Lance said again.

“Is there a reason you called?” Keith said abruptly, his embarrassment making him anxious.

“Oh yeah,” Lance said like he’d forgotten, “Sorry about that. I guess you’re busy right now, but I was gonna go shopping later on and wanted to know if you uh… like, wanted to go with or something?”

“Shopping?” Keith asked, folding his free arm over himself unconsciously. “Like, for what?”

“Well I don’t know about you, but I need new shoes. I’m gonna need work boots for later this summer when I go help my relatives on their farm.”

Shoes, huh? That sounded reasonable enough, but what did he need Keith for? “Shoes?”

“Sure, or whatever. You probably don’t have anything cute to wear right? I bet we could find you some really nice boots.”

Boots? Boots didn’t sound so unreasonable, or scary. He could get boots with some cute little heels and no one would even notice, right? 

“Okay,” Keith found himself agreeing. “Later today?”

“Yeah this afternoon,” Lance agreed sunnily. And then maybe we can grab dinner, afterwards.”

“Sure,” Keith said. “Sounds like fun.”

It also sounded, a tiny voice said from deep inside himself, like a date. Keith squashed that hope before it got a chance to blossom.

A few hours later he got a ride up to the local mall, telling himself there was nothing to be nervous about. He’d already hung out with Lance over in his own bedroom before, and if that wasn’t a date then there was no reason to assume this would be, either.

Nonetheless, he made sure to change into something fashionable. A nice black tee shirt styled with mesh underneath a few artful tears in the fabric, and a pair of tight black pants that he was fairly confident made his ass look fantastic. Not that he cared what Lance thought about his ass, of course. He just wanted to look good on principle.

Which is why he’d also made sure to go home early enough to put a little bit of makeup on. Not much, just some eyeliner and a bit of concealer for his face, hesitating in front of the mirror before finally adding a thin layer of strawberry-flavored lip gloss over his lips, just for a little something extra. Just for a little bit of flair. And hopefully confidence.

He had his cell phone in his back pocket but he also had a feeling he could get a ride home from Lance if he really needed one, so he wasn’t worried about bothering his mom while she was busy, or staying out too late. He’d found out during their texting liaisons that Lance had inherited a shitty car from his oldest brother when said brother had his kids, so he knew as long as that hadn’t broken down in the last hour or so Lance had his own ride.

Which meant now that he was here all there was left was to find Lance at the shoe store like they’d agreed. 

Keith didn’t go to the mall much himself, so it took him a while of wandering around to even find the shoe store. It made sense that when he did Lance was already there, standing by the open doorway and playing on his phone while he apparently waited for Keith to find him. 

A shot of nervousness rattled Keith enough to make him pause, but Lance happened to look up at that moment. He smiled at Keith, handsome as ever, and Keith had no choice but to meet him the rest of the way there with a returned smile and an internal scolding to be cool. 

“Hey,” Lance said. “You made it.”

Keith couldn’t help but return the smile. “So what did you need again?”

“Work boots,” Lance said, “and this is the biggest shoe store in town.”

Keith nodded, and they entered the store together. Keith was afraid this part would be a little boring, but there were actually all sorts of boots in the aisle Lance was looking for his work shoes in, and Keith found himself preoccupied in looking at them.

It didn’t take either of them long to find pairs they liked, and while Lance had dressed smart and worn old sneakers he could slip on and off, Keith hadn’t considered the fact that he’d be shoe shopping for some reason and had worn some of his lace-up combat boots.

By the time Lance had tried on and picked a pair to buy, Keith had just gotten his own shoe off in the first place. Lance snickered at him, poking around the corner to find a stool and offer it to Keith to sit on.

“Thanks,” Keith said, sitting down and pulling out a box from one of the shelves. 

“Here,” Lance said, taking out the right shoe from the box in Keith’s lap. “Let me help you.”

“What are you…” Help him… put on his shoe like he was Cinderella or something? Apparently, yes, that’s exactly what Lance intended. He was opening up the boot and sliding it over Keith’s heel, slipping the boot on and expertly tying the laces up. 

Keith could feel a blush warming his face and ears, and he bit lip hard enough for his teeth to clack down against his lip stud. Like Cinderella… the way Lance was putting on his shoe for him, it made Keith feel like a princess. He hated how much he loved that feeling. Delicate, where Keith had always prided himself on being strong.

“You’ve got really dainty feet,” Lance commented idly, eyes cast down on Keith’s foot. He blinked, blushed a little, and continued with, “I mean, you’re lucky, means you can fit into women’s shoes way easier than I can.”

“There,” Lance said, patting the tied boot. “Step on it, see how it feels.”

Keith did so, standing up to test the feel of the shoe. “It’s comfortable, but it’s not really different enough from what I usually wear to be worth spending money on.”

“You’re the one that picked them out,” Lance laughed, looking at the shelves. “But you’re right, that shoe is too boring for you. Let’s pick out something cute to wear.”

They browsed the shelves together, moving aisles away from the men’s boots and towards the women’s as they poked around the store for something that Keith wouldn’t be too embarrassed to wear.

“Oh my god,” Lance said, yanking a box off a nearby shelf. “Oh my god they have them in size twelves, I HAVE to try these on.”

The lid flew off the box to reveal a pair of the most absurd sparkling blue heels Keith had ever laid eyes on. He smiled, watching Lance fling off his sneakers to try on the heels right over his socks, standing up on confident feet and grinning down at the shoes.

“Are you gonna buy them?”

Lance checked the box and whistled. “Can’t afford them. But I can sure wear them the rest of the time we’re in the store.”

Both of them laughed, and Lance dragged Keith by the shoulder with an expert stride to look at more shoes. 

They finally found a pair Keith liked, a set of little strappy black ankle boots with zippers on the sides and just the slightest bit of heel to where Keith didn’t think he’d have any trouble walking.

He tried them on - by himself, thank you - and stood up, taking a few testing steps to see how they felt. 

“Do you like them?” Lance asked, walking up to stand in front of Keith. 

Keith nodded. “I really do. I wasn’t planning on buying anything today, but I really like these.”

“Sometimes you’ve gotta treat yourself.” Lance grabbed Keith’s hands, pulling him in by them and spinning Keith in a loop, dancing a few steps together in the middle of a store full of people.

Keith laughed. “You really can move in those heels, I’m impressed.”

“Of course I can. I told you I was amazing.”

Keith rewarded him with a smile. “Ridiculous, is what you are.”

In the end, he bought the boots. Lance put his glittery heels back, assuring Keith not to worry because he already had a pair of glittery blue shoes in a different shade and it was probably stupid to own two pairs when he never went out anyway.

Lance talked… a lot. A lot more than any of Keith’s other friends, including Romelle. Keith wasn’t used to it, but… he was pretty sure he enjoyed it. He was used to silence, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate someone filling it.

They wandered around the mall for a while, after that.

Peeked into stores, made fun of the things they had on sale there, that kind of thing. Keith looked at body jewelry for his earrings and Lance looked at new jeans, and it wasn’t until the department store that anyone tried anything on.

“Oh my GOD,” Lance crowed as they passed through the women’s section, finding some of the ugliest dresses Keith had ever laid eyes on displayed. “This is so fucking…”

Keith searched for a word. “Hideous?” He supplied, eyeing the red and green circus tent Lance had pulled off the rack with a flourish.

“Fabulous!” Lance declared instead, “I gotta try this bad boy on!”

Keith looked at the dress. “But… why?”

“Because it’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, of course!” Lance answers with inexhaustible cheer. He grabbed something else off a rack next to it and handed it to Keith with a “Here, have one, too,” and dragging him off to a nearby dressing room and shoving Keith into it.

Keith hesitated, looking down at the polka-dot fabric in his hands. He could hear Lance humming to himself as he shuffled around in the stall next to him, and waited until he could hear the door opening before giving up and dropping the dress onto the dressing room bench and opening the door to see what disaster Lance had wrought upon himself.

He opened the door, and immediately burst out laughing. Lance was posing in front of his door, wearing that godawful christmas colors dress like he was in a Vogue editorial, his old clothes still on underneath the dress. 

Keith couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his throat at the sight. Lance struck another pose, waggling his eyebrows at Keith. “And you doubted me, to think!”

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Keith grinned. “Were you gonna try it on without pants, or would that ruin the look?”

“Ruin the look, obviously,” Lance dropped his pose to flounce out the skirt in a little curtsy. “Now, come on, go try yours on! I wanna see!”

“Alright, alright,” Keith said, allowing himself to be gently nudged back into his dressing room.

The dress was white with large black polka dots, but when Keith actually looked at the cut and not just the fabric he realized it was actually kind of cute. An off-shoulder collar with a high waist and wide skirt, it looked like a cute little sundress Keith actually wouldn’t mind wearing.

He paused, looking at the dress. Then at his own reflection, holding the dress up in front of his body to see how it would look on him.

He kind of liked it. Kind of wanted to see how it would actually look on him, so before he could convince himself not to Keith was slipping his own shirt off.

He pulled the dress off it’s hangar, shimmying into it with only a little trepidation. He was much more hesitant when it came to turning around to face the mirror, not sure what his reflection would look like or if he wanted to see it at all.

It was fine. This was just a game, a little something to laugh about. A guy in a dress, haha, how funny, right? Wasn’t that what they were doing?

Taking in a deep breath of air, Keith closed his eyes and finally turned around to look at the mirror, determined with himself not to be disappointed no matter what he saw.

When he forced his eyes opened again, he took a moment. Blinked. Tilted his head to the side to watch his reflection do the same, then twisted his hips a little to the effect of a slight swoosh of his skirt. Huh. Interesting.

He licked his lips, swishing his hips again to watch the skirt move around his thighs. Cute, he decided. The way the cut of the dress showed off his shoulders on top and the shape of his hips on bottom, the way the soft lining of the dress felt against his skin, the print of the fabric against his pale complexion. The way everything came together made Keith feel… soft. Innocent, somehow. 

He must have taken too long, because there was a knock on the door. Shit, he had nearly forgotten about Lance. He unlocked the door but didn’t open it yet, still too shy to let himself be seen quite yet when it was his very first time ever trying on a dress. And he was doing it here. In public. As a joke.

Right, as a joke. Just… brush the whole thing off as a joke, Keith, he told himself quietly in the stale lighting of the dressing room.

“Keith?” Lance was asking, knockin again. But since the door was unlocked this time it swung open a little bit at the action, just opening an inch or two to let Lance know the door was open for him.

“Come on in,” Keith said, keeping his voice steady. “I uh… It’s not quite what I had expected.”

Lance stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He was back in just his normal clothes thankfully, so Keith didn’t have anything to be distracted by and could catch the wide-eyed look on Lance’s face.

“Whoa,” Lance said, eyes raking up and down Keith. “I guess that’ll teach a bitch to judge a dress by how it looks on the hangar, because when it’s on you that is anything but ugly.”

Keith blushed, feeling his fingers curl into the fabric of his skirt. “Yeah, it’s… a pretty nice dress after all.”

Lance stepped closer, still looking at Keith. “Yeah, the… the dress. The dress looks good. And you…”

Keith licked his lips, watching Lance’s eyes as the other boy stepped even closer still, close enough to reach out with long fingers to toy with the hem of Keith’s skirt. “And me?” 

“You look amazing in it,” Lance breathed out, looking Keith in the eye. “Incredibly cute, and sexy too.”

Keith felt the warmth bloom inside of him, starting from his stomach where a swarm of butterflies had just taken roost. “Thanks,” was all he could think to say, casting his eyes to the side because he couldn't bear to look into Lance’s intense blue gaze anymore. Not without the risk of spontaneously combusting.

“Are you gonna get it?” Lance asked, still playing with the hem of Keith’s dress. “It looks really good on you, and it’s not much money.”

Keith wasn’t sure. “I don’t know. I’d feel weird, buying a dress.”

“I could buy it for you,” Lance offered. “In fact, I really think you should let me do that.”

“Why,” Keith asked, voice quiet in the small space. “Do you keep offering to buy me clothes?”

Lance’s smile was that dangerous kind that went straight to the butterfly swarm nesting in Keith’s intestines. “Because I think you’re cute. And I wanna buy you cute things, and then see you wearing the things I bought for you. Something about you makes me want to… ” He leaned in close, and Keith’s breath stopped in his throat. “Spoil you.”

Keith could feel his hands shaking, his heart beating in his chest. “I don’t need to be spoiled, though.”

“Oh,” Lance said, voice dropped low and deep. “I think you really do.”

Keith shuddered, eyes once again breaking contact to look down at the floor.

It took another second of standing together in that cramped space, but eventually Lance coughed awkwardly. “I mean uh. Yeah, I mean. You’re cute, and it makes me wanna dress you up in cute things! That’s totally a more normal thing to say than whatever I said before now.”

Keith nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll buy the dress.”

Lance laughed. “Yeah, you do that.”

—

Now with both new shoes and a brand new dress in tow, proving Lance was a terrible influence to Keith, they moved on. 

It was already getting late enough that they figured it was about time to get dinner, and so they found their way to the Applebee’s attached to the east end of the mall.

They ordered burgers of slightly different varieties and talked little while they ate, enjoying their food in relative silence for what felt like the first time all day. Not that Keith minded Lance’s talking. There was just a lot of it, and sometimes it could get a little… overwhelming. It was good to know Lance didn’t have to fill every last moment with the sound of his voice, no matter how nice his voice was.

“Aw man,” Lance complained when they were looking at the dessert menu near the end of the meal. “They don’t even have pie here.”

Keith looked a the menu. “They have apple fritters. That at least has apple in it. Like a pie would.”

Lance scoffed, long and exaggerated. “Like SOME pie would, you mean. We should have gone to Denny’s, I’d have ordered a whole French Silk pie and taken the rest home as leftovers.”

“French silk,” it was Keith’s turn to scoff, disgusted. “That shouldn’t even count as pie!”

“Well why not?” Lance argued, affronted. “It’s only the best kind, and now you’re spouting nonsense about how it’s not pie at all?”

“It’s pure chocolate fluff! There’s no substance, no fruits, it doesn’t even have a top crust!”

“Neither does lemon pie! Or pumpkin pie! Are you saying pumpkin pie isn’t pie just because it’s pure pumpkin fluff?”

“Of course they count as pie, it’s your stupid dessert that doesn’t!”

“It has a crust, and a filling, a whipped cream topping, and you make it a pie tin! A pie tin, Keith!”

“Bah!” Keith dismissed. “And humbug on your so called ‘pie!’”

Lance blinked, opened his mouth, and promptly burst out laughing.

That was pretty much the end of that argument. They finished their meals still half chuckling, and he let Lance cover the full check but insisted on leaving a few dollars for the tip himself.

But the time they exited the mall’s giant doors it was already dark out. Lance headed for the parking lot, and Keith hesitated, wondering if he should call his mother now or just ask Lance for a lift home.

“Did you bring your mom’s Jeep here?”

Keith shook his head. “She needed it to help my uncle with something, so I just got a ride from her first.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

Keith smiled. “That’d actually be really great, yeah.”

Lance smiled back, and Keith followed him to where he parked his car.

The ride home was quiet other than Keith’s infrequent directions, the radio volume kept much lower than Keith would have expected from someone like Lance. It gave Keith time to think, time to decompress from the long day and enjoy the car ride home.

The window was stuck down and the highway back into town was long and windy. When Lance saw Keith fiddling with the window he apologized for that, reaching blindly into his back seat with one arm to grope around while he drove.

He produced a navy sweater from the back and deposited it into Keith’s lap. “Here, if you get cold you can just wear that.”

Keith thanked him, and decided that even though the late June air was warm and pleasant, he’d rather wear the hoodie anyway.

The mall was on the other side of town compared to where Keith lived, so it was a nice slow drive home. Lance dropped Keith off, asked him if he needed help with his bags. Keith shook his head - it was only two things - and went inside.

And if he forgot to give Lance his hoodie back before he drove off, Keith could always tell himself it was an accident. He could also tell himself he would give it back the next time he saw Lance. 

Putting his bags down to bury his nose in the hood of the sweater and take in the smell of Lance’s cologne, he knew both were lies. 

Lance totally wasn’t getting this back.

—


End file.
